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Godric And The Three Bears
Drakesreach Sierra - :The Drakesreach Sierra: A rugged range of rocky hills that feature an irregular and jagged profile, distinguished by the ashen rise of the snow-tipped Dragonspine Mountains to the far north, and the transformation of rolling plains into more somber auburn grasslands and bleaker lapidarian terrain that stretches between the foot of the mountain range to the north, the lush Verdigris Forest to the south, the crystal waters of the Jadesnake to the west, and the dry lowlands to the east. :Auburn becomes granite as smoothly as night becomes day upon the higher flats of the Drakesreach Sierra; the harsh grasses and the thorny brush give way to firmer rocky soil, and the shade of ashen sweeps over the ground below, the stones that crunch underfoot offering a bleak yet welcoming change from the uphill trek. :The terrain slopes higher with each step towards the north, the soft grasses of the auburn landscape quickly start taking on a rougher edge to them, adapting to the increasingly rugged terrain as firm soil gives way to slate and rock. Boulders of various shapes and sizes, and a few interesting geological formations, start to make an appearance, hindering any northern advance as the surrounding air takes on a ice-tipped chill. :It is a cold night. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. The skies are perfectly clear. :The following of the six moons are visible in the sky: Dayhunter (crimson/waxing), Stormwatcher (green/waning), Torch II (gray/waxing). ---- There's a really *hungry* growling from a cave set in a hill as Godric passes it. Godric Lomasa picks his way through the rugged, rocky terrain. His horse diligently trods through the harsh brush, and finds its footing on the firmer terrain. Tensing, with his weapons in hand, the Baron overhears the growling in a cave. "Best to ride past, old boy," muses the Lomasa knight to himself. He urges his horse forward. The horse's eyes widen a great deal, and it's not a happy horse at all. It's a scared horse. Out of the cave, thin from its long sleep, comes...a bear. A really big bear. And there are two more sets of eyes in the darkness of the cave behind it. "Easy, girl. Shant be frightened now," Godric speaks to the animal, trying to soothe his startled mare. While Wildfoot manages to stay somewhat under control, two more bears emerge from the darkness of the cave. It would seem the bears were roused by the sound of hooves and the scent of meat. The first one, growling low in its throat, ambles toward Godric and the horse. Not...yet...in a big rush. But give it time. Godric wastes no time dealing with the bear - and certainly not with three. Seeking a section of path away from the animal, he spurs his horse away (with haste!) Ah. Running. Running away! This the bears understand as the proper action of prey. An ungodly loud and hungry growling roar comes from all three and they start lumbering after Godric's horse. ---- Dry Lowlands - :Just northwest of the "downs", the terrain descends into a downward slope, both in elevation and fertility. The thick tresses of green grass are gradually replaced by a thinner, taller stalks. Waves of green transition into fields of amber reeds intermixed with patches of green. The "dryness" of the land is only a superficial trait, as the vegetation is fed via underground springs. One or two tiny saplings take root each year after their seeds were dropped into place by passing birds. Usually they fall prey to herd animals before the warm seasons end, however. :The wildlife is sparser, at least in terms of big game. The horses to the south tread these grounds very sporadically, as do small herds of deer. Stalking the deer, of course, is the same leoporidae that share this wide range of intermittent grassland. Large mounds of mud dug from the hidden springs stand as home base for mongooses that can occasionally be seen scampering about in search of insects and small rodents. :It is a cold night. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. The skies are perfectly clear. :The following of the six moons are visible in the sky: Dayhunter (crimson/waxing), Stormwatcher (green/waning), Torch II (gray/waxing). ---- The terrain is to Godric's advantage. Passing from the rough steppes, he begins to spur his horse harder and faster to cover the opening ground. With the grasslands in sight, the Baron continues to try and elude the bears - and leave them in his dust. The bears are hungry. And food is wearing itself out *right in front of them*. They lumber along after Godric and his horse, with the long, steady loping strides of bears who will happily keep this up until the prey drops of exhaustion. And it just might; although Wildfoot is giving her best, the horse is getting tired from all the galloping. ---- The Northern Downs - :This is the northernmost expanse of the upland region known as the "downs". The fertile soil allows for lush, green bunchgrass to flourish in every direction without a tree in sight. Many of the sweet-smelling flowers found in the rolling grasslands to the south dot this landscape with purple and scarlet hues. :This is one of the primary grazing grounds for the horse herds and so it's not uncommon to see them in great numbers, especially during foal season. Opportunity-seeking birds often flock after them, making easy meals of the pesky biting flies. Also seen, though not as frequently, are the predators of the native hoof stock that congregate here. The blinking of golden eyes and shifting of mottled coats that stalk the tall grasses come and go like phantoms. :It is a cold night. The slightest breeze stirs over the land infrequently. A few wispy cirrus clouds streak the otherwise clear sky. :The following of the six moons are visible in the sky: Dayhunter (crimson/waxing), Stormwatcher (green/waning), Torch II (gray/waxing). ---- Realising that his horse is tiring, Godric is beginning to rethink his actions. "Probably should have scarred those monsters," pants the Baron. He continues to ride south, eyeing the open fields, thankful that the country is at least condusive to riding. Slowing down now would certainly not be a good idea. For one thing, the bears are gaining. For another...there's this odd clattering sound as Godric rides over a small hill in the grass, barely more than a bump as hills go ...but in his wake, that hill rises up. A good twenty feet across, its shell covered in grasses, a tortoise-like head pokes out and large red eyes open onto the night. With the patience of a brick, the giant tortoise-like creature - shedding dirt from its hill-like carapace - starts lumbering after the Hapless Nobleman and the Three Bears. Godric strains in the saddle, looking out at the space as he passes. "What in the name of the Light?" he growls, confused. Gripping his spear and shield, he does what seems the most prudent: he continues to urge his horse forward, noting that the animal is growing fatigued. "Come you barbarian raised piece of hound's meat!" he roars at the animal. Bears and the Thing behind them evidently have no grasp of Fastheldian at all. At least, not one is deterred. The bears, however, are making hungry noises. That horse is looking awfully tired, after all. ---- The Southern Downs - :As the grasslands expand to the north, they rise gently in elevation. The fertile soil allows for lush, green bunchgrass to flourish in every direction without a tree in sight. Many of the sweet-smelling flowers found in the rolling grasslands to the south dot this landscape with purple and scarlet hues. :This is one of the primary grazing grounds for the horse herds and so it's not uncommon to see them in great numbers, especially during foal season. Opportunity-seeking birds often flock after them, making easy meals of the pesky biting flies. Also seen, though not as frequently, are the predators of the native hoof stock that congregate here. The blinking of golden eyes and shifting of mottled coats that stalk the tall grasses come and go like phantoms. :It is a cold night. The slightest breeze stirs over the land infrequently. A few wispy cirrus clouds streak the otherwise clear sky. :The following of the six moons are visible in the sky: Dayhunter (crimson/waxing), Stormwatcher (green/waning), Torch II (gray/waxing). ---- Godric Lomasa charges - it is, indeed, the only word - into general view over the northern horizon. His horse is wild-eyed and clearly both utterly terrified and nearly dead from exhaustion, but still galloping as fast as she possibly can across the earth. The reason for this is not so hard to determine, as in Godric's wake - some distance behind, but clearly catching up - are a family of newly roused and very hungry mankiller bears. About three of them, all fixated on the upcoming meal. And behind THEM, just a little farther back...a huge *thing*, about twenty feet across, tortoiselike with grasses growing from its shell. Red-eyed and slow, it is far behind the others. But clearly interested in taking large bites out of something when it catches up. Sandrim blinks as he looks at the approaching procession, then glances aside to Lucius. "Lucius Nepos!" he hisses angrily, but quietly. "Do you remember when we were talking, and we both were of the opinion that he should absolutely /not/ be brought out here?" He starts slinking back, teeth gritted. "You know, maybe if we're very quiet, they'll leave after they eat him." Celeste rises up to her back paws at hearing Lucius's words. Though the mongoose is not tall enough to be seen over the grasses and seems to guided more by sounds. Her nose twitches and she's down among the grasses again. The sound of crashing is not where she's headed. Meian just... stares a moment in silence, evidently completely baffled for the time being. Varal hurtles from the grassing, his leap superhuman as he almost seems to glide in the air for precious heartbeats, before he lands on the grassy top of the tortoise's back with surprising grace. A grim expression is on his face as he steadies himself upon the creature. "And then we decided, me and the Count, that a man who's very talented with the blade should be along. But.. I wasn't expecting this. Point taken, Sandrim." Lucius grins rather sheepishly. "Well, if you don't want to help him, go stand to the side or something. Maybe Meian can turn into a giant eagle and you can ride on her back. If she doesn't want to help. Best way to scare bears off is by punching them in the face." He has lost his grin and seems completely serious. And then, with Varal doing his heroic three hundred yard vault, Nepos hucks the Onager towards the closest bear. Godric Lomasa does not need a torch or lantern to see as the clear sky basks the open plain in light from the three moons overhead. He pants, warmed-up and resolved, in the saddle of his over-taxed and frightened mare. "Ho! Hail! Elkmont calls you there!" the Baron shouts out to the group. "To me! To me!" he frantically shouts. The almost dead animal is reared short as he heaves on the reins, spinning the horse about to fully face the onslaught of hungry animals. Gripping his spear in his right hand, and hoising his shield to protect his body with his left arm, the Bull charges the lead and largest bear intent on skewering it. He also hollars at the top of his lungs: "I will make a rug out of you!" Well, aside from Varal, the opening salvos are less than heartening. Lucius' hurled spear misses, disappearing into the darkness, and Godric's attempt to skewer a bear from horseback...honestly only seems to anger his target. That biggest lead bear is now intent on unhorsing, and possibly disembowelling, Godric - while a second bear is now lumbering toward Lucius. The third - at present - is still content to try to chew on Godric as well, and the giant turtle honestly hasn't noticed little Varal on its back yet. "You bloody idiots," Sandrim growls, stepping forward slowly. "I'll help fight, but only because it would be a shame to see one of Delicia's horses get killed." He steps forward swiftly, aiming a sharp jab at the nearest bear to him. There's a rustling in the grasses that is off to the side tortoise. The mongoose having stilled in her movements. Grasses bend and a form grows. It surpasses that of the breath of a lion and soon the wings unfurl. Green jeweled eyes rest above the sharp beak of the griffon as she bounds towards the mankiller that is after the Lomasa. "You are the -village idiot- of Elkmont if you are anything, Godric Lomasa!" Meian hisses wrathfully to herself, but nonetheless? She rises to her feet and nocks an arrow, aiming to shoot at the third bear. Her eyes are narrowed with concentration as she lines up the shot, then lets it fly. "If you survive this you are luckier than you deserve." Varal moves carefully towards the tortoises head, sliding a katar out of the sheath at his side. He leaves his sword on the beast's back for the time being, crawling the last couple of feet on his stomach. With one hand, he grabs a purchase onto the beast, and with the other - the one with the katar - he stabs at the tortoise's eye. "Oh, you want to fight, do you?" Keep in mind, this is a five foot seven man who weighs one hundred eighty pounds talking about an eleven foot bear who weighs probably closer to fifteen hundred pounds. For some reason or other, possibly adrenaline, possible the fact that if he takes too long to fight, dinner will be charred to a crisp over that fire, Nepos withdraws his sword. And then he charges at the bear with his shield out, screaming at the top of his lungs. What does he do? Instead of trying to stab the bear, he attempts instead to bash it right in its snout with the centre of his leather covered shield. Blackfox is returning from scouting, picking up the pace as she hears the sounds of battle. Already her bow is in hand, arrow nocked as she comes to a halt, not bothering to figure out anything more than 'bears in the camp.' Without a word, she looses the arrow from the string, taking aim at the throat of one of the bears. The shield is mangled and falls from Godric's hand as he attempts to hold off the two raging bears. They make quick work of dropping him from his horse, the animal screaming loudly and toppling to the ground. As the Baron is tossed from the saddle, his armour torn underneath the massive claws, he finds himself flung by the bears' might. Bloodied, bruised, and moderately wounded, the Lomasa staggers to his knees coughing loudly. Wheezing would be a better description of the sound rattling from his lungs. His spear and shield have both sailed in opposite directions, and the hapless nobleman finds himself confronted with two angry and hungry animals. He does not notice the flying arrows - or, it is better to say, when you are being mauled by mankilling bears, you really are not paying attention - but is thankful when he sees Lucius rush forward and strike one in the snout with his shield. Godric Lomasa reaches to his hip, gripping his longsword in his right hand and unsheathing the steel weapon. Hoisting it in both hands, he puts all of his energy into fending off the mankilling bears. A man covered in dented but resilient steel, bloodied and torn, who definately has a broken rib, he stands. Fighting for his life, Godric tries to thrust the pointed end of the weapon at the maw of the first engaging bear trying to devour him. As the bear swings at him, Sandrim just sways to one side, almost like he's being blown about in the breeze, and indeed, the bear's paw makes a lovely swooshing sound as it swoops by him. "Too slow," he says, starting to grin slowly. "Way too slow. How did you manage to keep up with a horse moving like that? Even if it did have the Lomasa on it." He steps in again, trying to relieve the bear of one of its paws with a swipe of his shortsword. The griffon doesn't slow in her gait, rushing at the bear's back. Wings whip back and raise back from the lionness's body. Beak and claws clamoring to sink into the flesh. Meian remains in the further back ranges of the combat, fitting another arrow to bowstring and aiming it for the more injured of the two bears on Godric. She still looks faintly disgusted with the entire affair, however. Varal is tossed from the back of the tortoise, and sails a good ten feet through the air, landing with a grunt. He lies there for several long moments, before he clambers up to his knees and shakes his head clear. Taking a deep breath, he stands back up and looks at the tortoise. Two quick steps, then a running start, the Mikin starts back towards the behemoth. Once he's close enough, he flips into the air, attempting a bicycle kick on its snout. The bear's return swat to Lucius is thundering in comparison with his little smack on its snout. Apparently, with Mankiller bears, a little pain does not deter them. The bears claws smash into his shield, hastily brought up to block. His feet have dug into the ground and he takes the blow without much issue. Seeing as the bear's upper torso is close to him, he retaliates with a thrust of his sword, hopefully between its almost armoured breastbone and head. Blackfox switches targets, then, as she sees Sandrim ducking the bear, smoothly stringing another arrow even before the string has stopped vibrating. Questions would come later, but for now all that mattered was putting a stop to the beasts. Godric Lomasa's sword stabs the bear in the eyesocket, causing some significant damage and partial blindness to the creature as the weapon tears downward along its snout. As it roars forward, he is not totally able to withdraw his weapon and adequately fend off the menacing animal. Its power and weight toss aside his effort at a block, and the battered steel armour is torn and mangled even further as the beast's claws gash open his thigh. Stammering, staggering, and still wheezing from the broken ribs and now gushing left leg, the Lomasa limps backwards. A grim and fatalistic expression overcomes his features; he seems ready to face death, and fully realises that it is staring at him (with one eye) in between sharp teeth. This time, however, Godric actually notices the fact that people are fighting to help him. (Surprising, no?) Moments before an arrow soundly plucks its hide, the claws and beak of - yes, a Griffon - tear into the monster. Though heavily wounded, his leg pouring bright red blood across his steel greaves, the Bull is not far away from the bear. In fact, the animal is nearly right on top of him. He takes this moment to try one more, probably doomed, blow upon the animal. Swinging his sword, he aims for his chest as it is distracted by the transformed Celeste. The bear intent on eating Godric is, at this point, pain-maddened beyond all reason. It's been hit with arrows, claws, and blades, but it has its prey down and it by God wants to get a good bite of it first. The bear after Lucius, much less wounded, is a bit dazed by the shield swats but still alert enough to avoid his sword, while the bear stalking Sandrim is really not having much luck at all getting the quick little bug to sit still. It doesn't seem to understand why, though, and is more than willing to try again - after all, a meal's so close. The same thinking seems to be shared by the giant turtle, which seems to be of the view that Varal would make a good snack as its snakelike snout snaps forward for a bite. 'Little bug' that he is, Sandrim is not sitting still and waiting to be eaten. Slippery as ever, the nimble young mage ducks the next swipe, letting out a soft laugh before he attempts to jab his sword into the bear's chest. "No, no meal for you today," he says. Claws, tinged pink now draw back to try and sink into the beast again. The griffon's head ducking to try and catch at the back of the bear's neck, sinking into the tender flesh. White fur decorated with spots of pink and red as she fights to get the bear off of the Lomasa. Meian continues to concentrate her efforts on dropping the bear that's mauling Godric as well, eyes narrowed in intense focus as she nocks another arrow and lets fly at the animal. After she's shot she begins to advance towards the fallen Lomasa, nearing melee range. "...I'll try to pull him out. It's the only way he's going to survive this -stupid mess-!" The giant tortoise jaw wraps around the Varal's body, bruising and crushing, before the beast sends the luckless Valorian sailing through the air like a rag doll. Only, this time, Varal does not get back up. Vhramis happens to be returning from doing whatever it is Vhramis does, pausing within sight of the rather...unique sight. "...What?" he utters, eyes widening. Griffons. Giant Tortoises? Bears? Oh my. He slides the bow off of his shoulder and breaks into a sprint to rush to where Meian and Blackfox stand firing. Blackfox does not curse or make a sound as her arrow grazes the bears fur, failing to draw blood. She simply reaches to the quiver at her hip and slips another arrow on the string and fires again at the one fighting Sandrim. So, this doesn't seem to be working particularly well for Lucius. The bears claws land on him this time with great speed. His armour and shield, though, absorb most of the blow, though it doesn't appear to be comfortable at all. Nepos isn't one to quickly give up though. He tries stabbing the bear again, this time in its very broad and exposed neck. For his part, Godric Lomasa makes one last effort at attacking the bear - bravely staring death in the maw! Unfortunately, his wounds overcome him and his sword arcs away from the animal. As the bear raises its paw to strike him once again, the unlucky knight is hurled through the air in a heap of bloodied and broken armour. Wheezing, blood pooling about his broken frame, the Baron stares straight up at the three moons in the sky. Peaceful. It all seems so peaceful, complete, and beautiful. He feels the faint, barely detectable breeze against his skin. "It is not so bad," he coughs, lying prostrate. "I gave it a brave effort. Worthy of Ulfel's blood...." Darkness overcomes the Lomasa. He is not playing dead; he is nearly dead. The defenders do quite well, all told, striking with force against the bears and doing, for the most part, quite well. Arrows sink into fur, swords slice it, but none of the hungry furry family are yet deterred from their goal of getting some food in their bellies. Pain-maddened, Godric's bear seems to consider Celeste competition for its limp meal, and turns away from it to give this white-winged intruder a darn good seeing to, while the other two bears are quite busy with their own preferred tidbits of flesh. Yet in the background, the giant turtle lumbers over toward the fallen Varal. A huge, blue, meaty tongue snakes out, its stubby tip giving the limp form a good lick. The look of 'BLECH!' is quite readable on the giant face. And the huge tortoise...slowly turns around, and lumbers off northward. Apparently it doesn't like the taste of the nibblets around here. The griffon does not relent to the bear. A second set of seraphim wings sprout about the creature, fluttering to try and defend while claws and beak continue to try and gnaw at the creature. White fur slowly tinging to pink Meian slings her bow around her narrow frame, halting as she finally reaches Godric. Taking advantage of the bear's momentary distraction, she seizes his shoulders and begins to drag him away for safety with all the strength she can muster. Blackfox grimly nocks another arrow, letting it fly towards the one Sandrim battles, jaw set as she lines up her shot. Vhramis skids to a halt by Blackfox, grunting out something that could perhaps be interpreted as a greeting. An arrow is drawn and it joins Blackfox's in flight at Sandrim's bear. Success, in a manner of speaking, fills Lucius with mirth and a battle rush. As his sword sinks into the bear's chest cavity and draws back out, it is covered in the thick, dark blood of the creature. However, he missed its throat by a few inches. This doesn't deter the soldier, who this time is quick enough with his shield to block another thundering blow from the Mankiller Bear, and offers it a stab towards the face instead. As usual while he fights, he remains silent in words, and only offers grunts in time with his physical exertions. Two of the three bears are on their last legs, so to speak - the one near Godric now haltingly defending itself from the enraged griffon that is Celeste, and the one after Sandrim a veritable porcupine of arrow-shafts. They fight now as much for survival as for food, and even the bear after Lucius is visibly dazed and slowing. Looking rather pained himself, Sandrim still manages to muster up the strength to dodge the dying bear's swipe. "First that raider, now you," he growls as he tries again to give the bear a second smile. "Just die!" The griffon's wings flutter to try and catch one of the claws, and disappearing as they graze by. Again, she tries to clamor atop the creature, beak snapping. Meian gives up on her very, very slow attempts to drag the steel-coated Godric and stops, straightening suddenly. Closing her eyes, she lets her form melt into a shapeless mass of shadow... and when it reforms, it's an oversized violet boar for once. A surprised grunt, but the boar wedges a tusk under Godric's armor and starts pulling on the double. Blackfox gives Vhramis the barest of nods in return, Velvel standing close by the huntress's side, growling softly in her throat. No time for discussion, the woman again sends an arrow shaft flying towards Sandrim's bear, hoping to bring it down. Vhramis turns his sight from the fallen mankiller to the remaining one. He frowns, nocking an arrow and aiming it in some uncertainty, watching the griffon attack it, and after another moment of taking aim, fires. Lucius is thanking the lucky stars for his shield, as usual. It registers the hit with the same thump as before, but absorbs the blow enough so that it only jostles the soldier, and doesn't send him reeling. He moves to punch the bear in the snout again with his shield, instead of stabbing it, his last thrust having gone through its cheek. As he does so, he yells, "GO ON! GIT! GIT!" As if this will be effectual, but he apparently has no desire to finish the bear off, and simply wants it to run away by virtue of it knowing that it will be beaten and that it should leave before it dies. After yelling actual words, he continues to scream loudly at the bear to try and convince it that it's done and out. And at last...it's over. An arrow from Blackfox's bow strikes cleanly through the eye of the bear after Sandrim, dropping it at last into peaceful death, while a second shaft from Vhramis' bow does the same for the bear attacking Celeste. And Lucius? Well...bleeding and suddenly alone...the stunned, bloodied bear gives a low growling rumble, shakes its dazed head and bruised snout...and wanders off. Sandrim stumbles back from the dead mankiller, dripping blood down on the ground, from both torso and blade. He lets out a few, slow breaths as he looks around. When his eyes light upon Godric, he growls. "Lucius!" he calls out. "From now on, when there's trouble in the Wildlands, I advise we tell the bonehead /nothing/, no matter how good of a sword arm he has." Category:Logs